Introduction
In the past 20 years, Bangladeshi migration to Southern European countries has gained an increasing importance and visibility.Footnote 1 Portugal is no exception and today, according to the Bangladesh Honorary Consul, more than 4,500 Bangladeshi migrants live in the country, where many have created their own businesses, bought apartments and reunited their families.Footnote 2
One of the more interesting facets of this population, though, is their educational and economic profile. They come from families which are both rural and urban, who have properties, and own businesses and companies. It is common to find former entrepreneurs of ready-to-wear garments, restaurants and tourism, fishing industries, trucking and transport, and even of the music business. Furthermore, other members of their domestic units in Bangladesh work in private and state-owned companies as high-ranking officials and administrative personnel, including in NGOs.
Simultaneously, most of my interlocutors have considerable educational backgrounds. Several finished college then took university degrees in subjects such as Political Science, Design, Engineering, Architecture, Sociology, Philosophy and Human Resources, and most are fluent in English.
Furthermore, Bangladeshis in Spain and in Italy, to whom those in Portugal are closely connected through several social networks, come from exactly the same socio-economic backgrounds.Footnote 3 But what was their motivation to come to Europe in the first place? And what does this tell us about the young Bangladeshi middle class?
To answer such questions, it is essential to look at contemporary Bangladesh, more specifically, to analyse the current predicament of the young Bangladeshi urbanized middle and lower middle classes and the importance migration has assumed in their lives and expectations. This is the main objective of this paper.
Most of my interlocutors come from what has been roughly summed up by several agents in Bangladesh (namely state, private economic groups and the media—both Bangladeshi and foreign), as the ‘new’ and ‘affluent’ Bangladeshi ‘middle classes’. (According to my ethnographic material, this category is regularly used in daily interactions.Footnote 4)
This Bangladesh ‘middle class’ is, however, a difficult segment to define. It seems to be a status group (in a Weberian sense), which is very heterogeneous, both rural and urban, and is characterized by a devaluation of manual work, a significant investment in education, fluency in English, and being relatively wealthy.Footnote 5
As Shahidullah argued, the historical roots of these so-called intermediate classes are linked to both colonial and post-colonial dynamics.Footnote 6 On the one hand, they seem to be connected to the creation of a ‘native’ administrative class during the British colonial period (this is linked to a wider process throughout colonial BengalFootnote 7) and, on the other hand, to the state-controlled industrialization during the 1950s and 1960s in East Pakistan, in order to create a trained workforce. These workers were drawn mainly from the rural and urban petty bourgeoisie, who owned properties, and thus capital to be invested in education—a petty bourgeoisie which later also became a small ‘commercial’ class. After Bangladesh gained its independence during the economic reforms of the late 1970s and 1980s, which aimed to enlarge the private sector and liberalize the economy, the petty bourgeoisie was one of the segments of the population which grew significantly.Footnote 8
This is a segment of the population that has been described by a number of authors including Choudhury, Huda, Van Schendel and Janeja.Footnote 9 In the first case, Choudhury shows that the fear of deprivation on the part of the middle classes in the political history of Bangladesh has led to the adoption of an ambiguous position regarding political projects. They were actively engaged in the creation of Bangladesh, but, soon after independence, their revolutionary zeal faded due to their self-interests.Footnote 10 Reflecting on the same relationship between class and political issues, Huda's research focuses on the relationship between middle class Bangladeshis and national identity through state-cable television channels, where she shows the different perspectives about nationalism and Bangladesh.Footnote 11 Van Schendel, in his recent History of Bangladesh has several notes on the complexities of these intermediate strata, such as their role in the (re)production of a Bengali cultural pride, their search for a place in politics and economics, as well as investment in education both at home and abroad.Footnote 12 Finally, Janeja explores (in Kolkata and Dhaka) the relationship between middle class Dhakaias (residents of Dhaka) and the foodscape. In this ethnography, everyday food is the actant in the production of middle-classes per se.Footnote 13
In this paper, I would like to contribute to this growing body of literature about the ‘middle class’ in Bangladesh by focusing on their relationship with international labour migration by revealing how going abroad—to bidesh—is itself constitutive of this middle class. I will argue that migration, as a resource and a discourse, is one of the ways that members of the middle class try to present themselves as both Bengali and ‘modern’.Footnote 14
This relationship between the middle classes in AsiaFootnote 15 and their migration is not a novelty in itself. Over the past decades, several authors have discussed this topic and have shown how going abroad is, in some cases, frequently perceived as a strategy for accessing middle class status and, thus, social mobility, whereas in others, it becomes a strategy of family reproduction and personal status.Footnote 16 Authors, such as Ong, or Fuller and Narasmhan, have addressed this topic directly.Footnote 17 In the first case, Ong shows how Chinese and Hong Kong families mobilize relatives by sending them to America, Canada and Australia, as a strategy to face an unpredictable future regarding their status.Footnote 18 These high middle class families invest in the higher education of their sons and daughters as a way of controlling citizenship rights and economic opportunities in several parts of the world, and thus maintain capital circuits with which they produce a project that reproduces their own status.Footnote 19
In the second example, the authors describe how the middle class in Chennai, linked to Information Technologies, are quite aware of the relationship between their integration in such a sector in the labour market and the possibility of migrating to America. In the 1960s and 1970s, the incorporation of information technology was a possible strategy to acquire a migration opportunity and thus become a Non Resident Indian.Footnote 20 This was part and parcel of what has been described as a middle class obsession with migration, even amongst the high middle class, in the 1980s.Footnote 21 Having said this, it is important to recognize that the similarities with the Bangladeshi case stop here. The relationship between the workers in information technology and migration has now changed considerably.Footnote 22 Most are continuously looking for jobs abroad but that does not make them necessarily Non Resident Indians. On the contrary, their main goal is now to live between, for example, America and India, spending part of their time in each country.
This is totally different from the Bangladeshi case under study here, since most of my interlocutors travel as economic migrants and not as professionals of a specific economic sector. This is, of course, intimately related to their position regarding their future prospects, social mobility and their middle class status, which, as will become evident shortly, is very different to the case described above. For young Chennaians, their middle class status is ‘felt to be secure and is rarely perceived as precarious or unstable’,Footnote 23 whereas for most of my interlocutors their predicament is, on the contrary, marked by a similar position as the one described by Leela Fernandes, in Mumbai.Footnote 24 Fernandes shows how the middle classes are intimately connected to the liberalization policies of the 1990s in India—the so-called ‘new economy’—in which they mainly occupy white-collar jobs in private firms. Facing downsizing strategies where employment is more and more an insecure resource, several of her interlocutors search for, in consumption and life style, the idealized images of the ‘new and rich middle classes’ (thus distinguishing themselves from the working classes). Some segments of these urban middle classes therefore have to ‘confront the contradictions between the uncertainty of [the] economic processes of labour market restructuring on the one hand and the aspirations of the discursive images of prosperity and consumption that characterize images of the ‘new’ middle class dream in liberalizing India, on the other hand’.Footnote 25 They thus face an increasing uncertainty that has clear consequences for their aspirations towards consumption and prosperity.Footnote 26
A similar uncertainty can be found amongst many young middle class Bangladeshi adults to whom the positions they can access in the labour market are not according to their expectations, and thus the consumer goods that are popularly seen as distinguishing markers of the middle class are not immediately affordable.
This is more broadly related with the impact of capitalism and liberal policies in the urbanized Bangladeshi middle classes, which have expanded as private economic capital has assumed a pivotal role in the Bangladeshi economy. One consequence is an increasing access to education and media, in which the desire for success and ‘modernity’ is emphasized. I am talking about a notion of ‘modernity’ inspired by authors such as Ferguson, Osella and Gardner, and Cooper, to whom modernity is a discursive formation, a ‘native’ category, related to notions of ‘development’ and ‘progress’, issued not only by Nation States, NGOs, global institutions and academic structures, but also by people themselves.Footnote 27 This so-called ‘modern’ life is perceived as an experience of ruptures regarding the past, ruptures which are frequently achieved through consumption.Footnote 28
In Bangladesh, as elsewhere in South Asia, this consuming of ‘modernity’ is frequently related with all things ‘foreign’, whether from Europe, America or the Gulf.Footnote 29 This is precisely what seems to happen amongst the young Bangladeshi middle classes and the desire for bidesh. Desire is, as Lisa Rofel argued, a central concept in interpreting the relation of subjects and the encounter with the neo-liberal order in China.Footnote 30 Whereas the projects of the Chinese urbanized middle classes were based on desire—both sexual and material—a novel cosmopolitan humanity unleashed by post-socialist reforms, for most of my interlocutors the desire for material objects was accompanied by the desire for a life in foreign lands as being the only possible avenues in order to achieve such expectations. Furthermore, for most of my interlocutors, going abroad is not simply a question of consumption and ‘modernity’ but also of life course and gender. For many, reaching adulthood is intimately related to going abroad, after which they earn enough economic capital and become ‘better’ and more ‘attractive’ marriageable partners. As Cole and Durham argue, it is through intergenerational relationships and life-course events that larger global processes of transformations are acted out and negotiated and the case of my Bangladeshi interlocutors is another good example of such dynamics.Footnote 31
Simultaneously though, marriage in South Asia—in its arranged form (and thus as a strategy to control young peoples’ access to sex)—is also related to ‘the production of normalised and naturalised heterosexuality (. . .)’ and therefore to the production of masculinities.Footnote 32 So going abroad is not simply a way of producing adulthood but also masculinities.
Thus, for young Bangladeshi adults who now live and commute between Portugal and Bangladesh, it is geographic mobility that allows certain consumption practices which are essential in order to access the adhunik, the modern, but also to progress in one's life-course. Migrating to Europe is seen as a way of achieving such dreams and expectations regarding one's life. In sum—and this is the main argument of this paper—migration, both as a project and a discoursive formation, is itself constitutive of contemporary Bangladeshi middle classes. It is not only a resource that allows certain lifestyles and consumptions but is also a discourse of prestige and distinction.
To explore this argument, I will first describe the paradox faced by young adults of middle class background in Bangladesh and how this paradox is apparently ‘overcome’ through investment in international migration. Secondly, I will show the ways these expectations have been fostered not only by a ‘culture of migration’Footnote 33, historically linked to Sylhet, but also by the Bangladeshi state and media themselves. Before my concluding remarks, I will argue that this relationship between migration and the middle class in Bangladesh is not only a strategy but also a discourse of class.
Middle class households in Dhaka
As we have seen, most of my interlocutors come from the new and affluent Bangladeshi ‘middle classes’ and in this section I will succinctly describe these middle class households in Dhaka and some of their consumptions. It is in relation to these that the migration projects of my interlocutors should be understood.
While doing fieldwork in Bangladesh, I visited 13 householdsFootnote 34 and in all of them there was, or had been, someone living abroad (in three cases, their relatives were living in Portugal). Furthermore, their socio-economic profile was similar to the ones presented by my interlocutors in Lisbon.
Except for three houses that were located outside the capital, all were in the central areas of Dhaka frequently associated with the intermediate strata, such as Muhammadpur, Raja Bazaar, Shajahanpur, Mirpur, Dhanmondi and Azimpur.
The most common residential practices are apartments in buildings with six or ten tenants. Four of my interlocutors were the owners of the buildings, whilst the others rented. In spite of this, the situations were very diverse: for instance, one of the families rented an apartment in Azimpur for 18,000 takas per month (= 193.494 EURFootnote 35), where they had spent most of their lifetime, despite the fact that they owned another apartment further north (which was also rented to other families).
Most of the houses I visited were composed of nuclear families, with a resident maid/cook, normally recruited from poorer relatives and usually from the village (gram) of origin. In three cases, it was the father's house and in two of them, although the head of the family had already passed away, the house continued to include the mother, the married sons and single daughters. In a third case, the father's household was in a transitional moment due to the decision, taken by the brothers, to fund their own domestic units.
It was very common for the remaining apartments in the building to be occupied by brothers. In these cases, the building became a unique domestic unit and in one case there was a single apartment reserved for family meetings, meals and festive occasions.
As Janeja shows in her ethnography of the Bangladeshi middle classes, the contents and decorations of these houses reveal their status.Footnote 36 Most of them had video or DVD players, Television, fixed telephone lines and mobile phones, freezers, personal computers with internet connection, and video game consoles.
For these families, education is a priority, as a social mobility instrument for both boys and girls. To this end, the University of Dhaka, City College, Dhaka College, as well as several private institutions, played a pivotal role. In recent years the emergence of many institutions, both private and public, where classes are taught in English, are especially directed towards these social strata.
It is precisely to these segments, as well as to the elite and expatriate communities, that the Bengalized Chinese restaurants, together with fast food chains, such as Wimpy and Pizza Hut, are aimed. These are only some examples of the importance of food consumption as an actant for the production of a middle class identity amongst the Dhakaias.Footnote 37
Besides the bazaars in each residential area and the two most important and older markets directed at the middle classes, in Motijheel and New Market,Footnote 38 the commercial centres have grown significantly over the past few years and three of the most emblematic are Riffle's Square, Rapa Plaza and Eastern Plaza. Most of my interlocutors, as well as their families, were frequent consumers of goods in these shopping centres and particularly so on the eve of main festive occasions. The inauguration of the biggest shopping centre in the country—Bashundhara City—located in Panthapat, one of the city's most important avenues and close to Pan Pacific Sonargaon hotel, is a great attraction for the younger middle class generation. According to press reports,Footnote 39 this shopping centre, with its eight stories, 2,500 shops, offices, cinemas and other services, is seen as a sign of ‘modernity’ and development, quickly reaching the Bangladeshi middle classes. The echoes of this inauguration were even felt in Portugal. Months after its inauguration, it was still a topic of conversation.
This characterization of my interlocutors households, their educational projects and consumption practices allows us to see the lifestyles associated with these emerging Bangladeshi middle classes. These are not only constitutive of their social status, prestige and identity but they are also a way of (re)producing their economic position and simultaneously distinguishing themselves from other segments of Bangladeshi society.Footnote 40 To describe these is therefore to ethnographically explore the cultural context behind the decisions regarding migration, since not all members of this group are able to join the ‘new affluence’. For the younger generation of these intermediate strata accessing such lifestyles whilst staying in Bangladesh has become more and more difficult.
The paradox of the middle classes in Bangladesh
In spite of the aforementioned educational investment, after finishing their courses, young middle class adults face increasing difficulties in accessing the labour market. According to data presented by the International Labour Organization, the highest unemployment rates were to be found amongst those aged between 20 and 30 years; and the higher their educational background, the higher the rate.Footnote 41 They are actually able to access the labour market but mostly in positions significantly below their expectations, and frequently without earning enough money to support their consumption patterns. Thus for these segments, there is an increasing feeling of lack of opportunities and uncertain professional prospects.
The consequences of such a structural paradox are not only related to individual expectations regarding labour market participation, they are also directly linked to other areas of social life, namely, the life-course itself and consumption patterns. Firstly, without access to the labour market, it is not possible to contribute to the parent's household and therefore to be a ‘good’ son. In a context where household ideologies imply that sons are supposed to contribute towards the parents’ household—namely to support them through old age, and in the education and fostering of their younger siblings—not having access to the labour market is a significant limitation to a son's role (see examples below).
Secondly, in this labour market predicament, being able to marry and run a household, therefore achieving a new status of adulthood, becomes increasingly difficult. Being in such a structurally delicate position in the labour market implies not having access to the necessary resources to marry and, therefore, build a household. It is as if the reproduction of generational identities would be permanently blocked.
Thirdly, this labour market predicament means it is impossible to live the so-called ‘modern’ Bangladeshi lifestyles. The Bengalized Chinese restaurants and international fast-food chains, the theme parks, the so-called ‘modern’ supermarkets, and especially the contemporary Dhaka mall cultures, are some very good examples of such contemporary trends. Bashundara city is a case in point when considering the middle classes and the consumption of ‘modernity’.
In spite of this, such ‘modernity’ is not something achievable only by going abroad. Social, economic and political elites and upper middle classes (who have left Dhanmondi, the ‘traditional’ residential area of the upper middle classes and petty bourgeoisie) maintain such so-called ‘modern’ ways of life, and a visit to the Gulshan and Baridhara areas in Dhaka suburbs is enough to reveal how this ‘modern’ is something locally produced by specific social groups. The question for middle classes is that in order to sustain such lifestyles they need capital—which most families cannot afford in the long run—and thus, in a sense, middle class Bangladeshis are at least partially excluded from such practices.
When facing such a predicament, participation in other avenues of the global labour markets through international migration is seen as a way to overcome such exclusion.Footnote 42 It is an opportunity to earn enough money, the so-called bideshi takas (literally ‘foreign money’), necessary to access certain kinds of consumption without which young adults cannot contribute to their parents’ households nor can they afford to form their own new ones.Footnote 43
No wonder all the migration projects of Bangladeshis in Lisbon are supported by the households of their parents and continue to remain intimately linked to these through remittances, ceremonies, and the seeking of advice. For instance, Mukitur came to Europe after borrowing US$ 5,000 from his father, an amount he has never been able to pay back (something he deeply regrets). In spite of this however, since 1989, Mukitur and his younger brother have continuously sent money back to Dhaka, to his father's household where, at the end of each year his three brothers who remain at home, and his mother, get together in Azimpur and redistribute the money earned from their garment shops in Lisbon and New Market in Dhaka.
All my interlocutors migrated directly from their parents’ households. Few were already married or had a previously constituted household of their own, and thus, their presence in Portugal can only be understood in the general context of the domestic unit from which they left. Furthermore, all 13 households I visited in Bangladesh had at least one member living abroad, either in continental Europe or in the Middle East; and it was easy to see the parents’ investment in these migratory projects. They were frequently the source of economic capital, through the selling of properties or loans needed to buy an aeroplane ticket, a visa or simply to invest in a business, and were sometimes essential in the decision for a family member to go abroad.
Fariid and Mashiur are two cases through which all these dynamics can be seen. Fariid is the son of an entrepreneur in the Savar area and when he finished high school was quite unsure about what to do next. But of one thing he was sure: he did not want to continue studying and, even less, go to University. As the oldest son, however, he had to help his parents by supporting the educational expenses of his two younger siblings, and thus he thought about going abroad. This decision was made with the active, moral and economic support of his father which enabled him to go first to Saudi Arabia, then on to Germany and later to Portugal. He now owns a shop in downtown Lisbon and frequently sends money back home. ‘After all’, he mentioned: ‘it's not that my family really needs it! I send this money because I feel it is my duty to help them out’.
Mashiur, on the other hand, first went to Germany, to see his brother, Mujib, who had been in Hamburg since the late 1990s. Mashiur was an Engineering student at Madras University and his studies were actively sponsored by his older brother. Unfortunately, and due to some problems with his business, Mujib was unable to continue sponsoring his brother's education in India and instead decided that he would join him in Germany. Mashiur arrived in Hamburg in 2001 and, after working for nine months at his brother's Internet café, he heard about the regularization processFootnote 44 in Portugal. With some money which Mujib had given him, Mashiur applied for regularization in 2002 and received a positive reply. Mashiur now has a small kiosk in downtown Lisbon, is already married and has a daughter: all of whom live in Portugal. As he once told me, they send money back to Bangladesh whenever possible, with which their father can buy new properties, namely, in their home village of Faridpur. In his own words: ‘My father has worked a lot for us and now it is our turn to let him rest’.
These two cases show the importance of the parent's household in the migration process giving support and advice on investments, and simultaneously illustrate the relevance of having a member of the domestic unit living abroad. The idea of contributing to the parent's household and, to some extent, easing the pressure upon them, seems to be a generalized conception which is intimately related to a clear notion of co-responsibility towards other elements of the domestic unit from which they had departed. In such a context, the migration of a member of the domestic unit is frequently seen as a strategy of social reproduction and, sometimes, even of social mobility. As several authors have shown, this is a way to guarantee the historical continuity and reproduction of the household.Footnote 45
Going abroad can be a way to solve inherent tensions between generations, allowing not only for the continuity of the parent's household but also allows the forming of new domestic units. Therefore, migration can be seen as a way to attain maturity and adulthood and enable access to economic and symbolic capital,Footnote 46 which are regarded as essential in order to progress in the life-course.Footnote 47
Among my interlocutors, maturity is connected to marriage and the constitution of the household. Those who have not achieved such goals are viewed as immature subjects. Whilst I was in conversation with Fazlur (see next section) about living together and other subjects such as marriage, a common acquaintance who is married with two children and living in Portugal, approached us. After we explained the nature of our conversation, he exclaimed: ‘Why are you listening to him? He is not a man yet. He is not married and he does not have a house of his own’.
In this case, manhood and maturity were intimately related and both connected with marriage and the construction and financial well-being of a household. All my interlocutors came to Portugal before marrying and, only after legalization and having saved enough money, did they go back to Bangladesh and get married. In 2008 there were more than 150 Bangladeshi households in Portugal, all of which were the result of marriages originating under very similar circumstances,Footnote 48 and most of my interlocutors were quite aware of this. Whilst talking to Chanu, a former Human Resources student from the University of Dhaka who had arrived in Portugal in 2002, he mentioned that the first thing he would do after receiving his documents from the Portuguese authorities would be to go back to Bangladesh and get married. According to him, it becomes far easier to get married if you have European documents because people assume this relates to being wealthy (the other side of the coin is, of course, the rising costs involved with marriage). In this way, migrating also becomes a way for people to become autonomous earlier in their lives while still remaining continuously linked to their parent's house. Although some of the pioneer Bangladeshis already have their families in Portugal, whenever they return to Bangladesh on holiday or on business trips, they almost always stay in their parent's home. Hardly any have a house of their own in Dhaka but those who have purchased, have usually acquired plots of land, which fact they try to keep well hidden (this is related with the corporate management of remittances in the context of the household).
In this context, going abroad is frequently seen as both a resource, by contributing to the original family household, and as an opportunity, to build new homes and thus achieve maturity and adulthood.
This sequence reproduces a certain dominant class narrative (discussed further below), where household reproduction strategies, generational tensions and specific consumption patterns come into play as ideological centrepieces. Migration to Europe is seen as one of the several routes available to achieve such ends and the next section relates a specific case study in which several of these tensions are revealed.
Fazlur's case
Fazlur arrived in Portugal in 2001 and was the first member of his patrilineage to leave Bangladesh. He was born in Comilla, in the South of the country, but his parents and paternal uncles migrated to the capital, Dhaka, when he was still very young. Most of his life has been spent in Dhaka and he rarely visits his family village. His father, together with his two paternal uncles, came to live together in Azimpur, where they collectively manage a trucking company and two shops in New Market, in down-town Dhaka. A third paternal uncle stayed in the village managing the family properties there.
The building in Azimpur was shared by the three families, each with their own apartment, but frequently meeting together in a common flat. The paternal uncle who remained in the village would visit them once a year, usually around the main occasions of the Islamic calendar, such as the id al-fitr (the feast after the end of Ramadan) or the id al-adha (the feast of sacrifice). They would then hold an annual accountancy meeting to discuss the many businesses and properties, and redistribution of some of the earnings.
Fazlur, together with his sister, his two brothers and the remaining cousins were, ‘a football team’, he quoted with nostalgia.
In the following years, though, the situation changed considerably. After the death of his mother, Fazlur's father decided (much against the will of his brothers) to remarry. The atmosphere became quite tense and Fazlur's father moved away from the house in Azimpur and went to live in Mirpur, in the North of Dhaka. Fazlur and his brothers decided not to accompany their father. They themselves were very critical of his decision to remarry, and thus stayed with their paternal uncles.
With this separation great instability erupted regarding the management of family resources and, eventually, they discussed property division and distribution, as is frequently the case in the domestic unit cycle. This revision of the division of family property was demanded by Fazlur's father but his paternal uncles were strongly against it. According to them, the family resources should continue to be managed collectively rather than being divided and spread around.
One way or another, the family's economic resources allowed Fazlur and his brothers to study until relatively late. Education had been a constant worry for the family, and thus all three brothers went on to higher education. Fazlur, for instance, achieved a B.A. in Graphic Design, whilst Anwar, his older brother, completed a M.A. in Management at the University of Dhaka.
Before coming to Portugal, Fazlur had worked as a designer, and prior to that as a freelance for several pharmaceutical and graphic design companies. He brought his portfolio to Portugal in the hope of acquiring a corresponding position.
Anwar created his own company, together with four partners, named Scarlet Knitwear, which produces garments and ready-to-wear items. They have a factory with 600 employees in Narayanganj, an industrial zone on the outskirts of Dhaka. As their main customers are based in Europe and America, business is mainly directed at exports. In August 2006, the company planned to build a sixth floor to facilitate the expansion of their activities to new markets such as Portugal—where, of course, Fazlur already had established contacts.
Fazlur's other brother, Shams, works in Sonali Bank, one of the biggest public banks in Bangladesh.
Intrigued by the fact that someone with his socio-economic and educational background had decided to migrate, I asked why he had decided to come to Europe in the first place. He replied that one of the most important reasons was that he ‘was told that in Portugal a Graphic Designer earned twenty times more than in Bangladesh’. This was what Sajidul, his best friend, had told him whilst on a visit to Dhaka. Sajidul is the younger brother of Mukitur, one of the first Bangladeshis to arrive in Lisbon at the beginning of the 1990s, and one of the most prominent figures in the Bangladeshi ‘community’.
When he shared the decision with his family, everybody was quite reluctant, and both his aunts and brothers tried several times to stop him from coming. They thought he had no need whatsoever to go abroad and, as his older brother said to me in Dhaka, ‘I told him several times not to go but, in spite [of] the fact that I am his older brother, he didn't pay any attention to my words’.
Later, Fazlur argued that one of the reasons for ignoring such pressure was related to precisely this sort of social control. He had constantly to account to everybody on his whereabouts, and felt, therefore, that in Europe he might enjoy more freedom than in his paternal uncles’ household.
Fazlur was able to get a Schengen visa (it is a visa that allows its holder to travel throughout Schengen during 90 days, for tourism, leisure or business) through a company for which he was working at the time and he arrived in Lisbon in March 2001. Officially, he was supposed to be participating in a graphic design upgrading course in Denmark, but as soon as he arrived in Lisbon he called his boss informing him that he was quitting.
The following three years were very difficult. His Schengen visa expired whilst he was still waiting for an answer from the Portuguese authorities regarding his regularization process. In the meantime, he had applied for several graphic design positions but had been unsuccessful. He sent his curriculum vitae to several employment agencies, most of them on the internet, but was never called for interview. He was now working in Mukitur's photocopy shop, where the closest he got to graphic design was producing personal cards for some Bangladeshi entrepreneurs and restaurant menus.
At the beginning of 2005, a new regularization process was under way in Spain—the empadronamiento. Fazlur tried his luck because this was a far better document than the one he had received from the Portuguese authorities. As he told me, ‘With this document, I can spend six months in Bangladesh and maybe get married’ (with the Portuguese one, he was only allowed to stay outside the country for a maximum period of 60 days). On several occasions he went to Madrid, to the house of a friend from Azimpur who had been living there for a while; and at the end of the year he received a positive response to his application. He then decided to move to Madrid and began working on an Internet cafe in the Oporto area.
Fazlur had been saving to go back to Bangladesh after four years away, when he received a call from Anwar, his older brother, informing him that their father was terribly sick: he had been diagnosed with a terminal disease, and therefore Fazlur had to return home as soon as possible. He arrived in Dhaka, in February 2006, and went directly to Mirpur to see his father—a visit that profoundly moved him. In one of their many encounters, his father reminded him that of all the brothers, he was the only one who was still unmarried. Fazlur's father made him promise that he would marry as fast as possible, because he did not want to die without the guarantee that his youngest son had become a man. Shortly afterwards, and with the help of some of his father's friends, and with added pressure from the whole family, he married Shati, a Social Science Master's student, at the University of Dhaka, fluent in English, and also from Azimpur. The modest celebration took place in March 2006, with only the relatives of the bride and groom, but the main idea at the time was to save more money and then have a bigger and more lavish party later.
When I met Fazlur again, in August 2006, in Lavapies, Madrid, Shati was living in her parent's home, back in Dhaka, doing some private tutoring. They spoke on MSN messenger every day and he was thinking about bringing her over to Spain.
Despite the peculiarities of this case, Fazlur's experience reveals the intimate relationship between migration, generational identities, marriage and modernity. For Fazlur, going to Europe was not simply a way of earning more money—an essential requirement for his future prospects and marriage expectations—it was also a strategy for increasing his autonomy from the family household in Azimpur due to the tense situation with his father's second marriage. At the same time, his post-marriage strategy of leaving his wife with her parents and not with his relatives back in Dhaka is perceived by him as a ‘modern’ matrimonial solution, especially when compared with the ‘traditional’ (his word) of leaving the wife in the husband's household while he returns to Portugal.
Modernity and a culture of migration
The possibility of going abroad, bidesh, is a discoursive formation transmitted by several sectors of Bangladeshi society including the media and the state.
On the one hand, the media assumes an important role in this desire for the foreign, as Yang has shown in her analyses of media developments in contemporary Shanghai.Footnote 49 In her article, it is possible to see how the new bourgeoisie attaches itself to a media market where the experiences from abroad, also linked to non-resident Chinese, are part and parcel of daily consumptions and longing. The life experiences—good and bad—of migrants abroad are mainly consumed by the middle classes themselves. One vivid example I came across whilst carrying out fieldwork, was a cartoon published in the Daily Star—an English language daily newspaper published in Bangladesh—where the probashi (portrayed as someone initially leaving the country with his lungi on) was arriving from bidesh dressed as a business executive and changing the ways of dressing of his wife. The migrant was here clearly perceived as an agent of change towards more ‘modern’ lifestyles.
On the other hand, the state perceives migration as a possible avenue of ‘modernization’ and ‘development’, mainly because remittances sent back home by migrants, through formal channels, have an important impact on the national economy, representing at least 20 per cent of the country's imports.Footnote 50 Such economic importance has led to the development of an industry in which private companies are the main recruiting agents—regulated by the state—to economies ranging from Saudi Arabia to Spain and Portugal.Footnote 51 In 2001, a ministry was specifically designed to cope with the needs of manpower recruitment and welfare—the Ministry of Expatriates’ Welfare and Overseas Employment—and a system of private recruiters, supervised by state authorities, was implemented in the country.
Due to such efforts, between 1976 and the first semester of 2006, there were approximately four million Bangladeshi workers abroad (the majority of whom came from the lower middle classes and on short-term working periods), working mainly in the Middle East. Other destinations include America, Britain, Australia and continental Europe, but in these cases most have long-term migration projects and come from high, middle class backgrounds.Footnote 52
With this context in mind, state authorities have developed special programmes targeted at either temporary or permanent migrants. These include the auction of land and the possibility of buying properties in the capital city in specially designed apartment blocks. One of these was the Wage Earners’ Housing Complex designed by the Bureau of Manpower, Employment & Training under the auspices of the Ministry of Expatriates’ Welfare & Overseas Employment. Apartment blocks were built in the centre of Gulshan and Baridhara, the ‘prestigious residential area’ of diplomats and elite Bangladeshis, which could be purchased at prices and with provided amenities that kept in mind ‘the financial capabilities and social status of the expatriate Bangladeshis’ (as stated in the Wage Earners’ Housing Complex presentation brochure).
The simple location of these apartment blocks is in itself quite revealing of the way the central Bangladeshi state sees migration and migrants. They are clearly considered a crucial element in the ‘modernization’ of the Bangladeshi economy and thus are treated as ‘modern’ Bangladeshi citizens.
Their role, as ‘development’ agents, has been evident on certain occasions and in statements which have been produced by several political figures. In 2002, the advisor to the Ministry of Information emphasized the role of these migrants, comparing them with jute, when it was the main ‘engine’ of the Bangladeshi economy:
There was a time when we used to term ‘jute’ as the ‘golden fibre’ of Bangladesh. By exporting jute, the country used to earn a huge sum of foreign exchange. Migrant workers are now a major source of our foreign exchange earnings. Now we should honour them by calling them men and women of gold [. . .].Footnote 53
These public discourses are about migration to the Gulf and thus apparently viewed independently from migration to continental Europe. The point though is that these discoursive formations reveal that migration-talk has become part and parcel of recent Bangladeshi history and of contemporary society. This is partially related to a ‘culture of migration’ based upon 150 years of population movement between North-Eastern Bangladesh– (Sylhet) and Britain, and the generalized migration from other parts of the country since the mid 1970s.Footnote 54
Furthermore, examination of the role carried out by those considered to be successful migrants in the Bangladeshi public space, namely in the economy, reveals achieving possible success by going abroad. Many of the country's most important economic groups have strong expatriate participation and, in some cases, are actually owned by them.
Migration and migrants are something continuously present in the quotidian life of the intermediate strata. Indeed, one of my interlocutors even argued that there was a specific embodiment of the migrant. We had just come from a visit to Sajidul, a Bangladeshi living in Portugal and on holiday back in Dhaka, when my research assistant, Ali, pointed out that Sajidul had a way of walking and dressing which was ‘typical’ of a migrant. When I asked him to be more specific, he listed Sajidul's neck chain, cap, jeans and even the shirt he was wearing as features that signalled being a migrant and ‘modern’. This reminded Ali of a childhood story. He was playing in a neighbour's house, when they received a visit from a relative who had been living in America. He had brought some pens and sweets for the children but, since Ali was not from the family, he dare not take any and ran home to his mother crying.
What these examples show is the persistence of the migrant and its image amongst certain segments within contemporary Bangladeshi society. It has become part and parcel of an imaginary where migration has a significant importance. All these narratives and imaginaries create enchantments that in turn produce certain expectations regarding the life-course, which might lead to migration.Footnote 55 As Imtiaz Ahmed argued, ‘working and living abroad becomes a lifetime goal for many’.Footnote 56
Having said this, it is essential to understand that the relationship between migration, life-course and modernity is not only a strategy but also a discourse, supported and socially located within certain segments of contemporary Bangladeshi society, namely the intermediate social classes. However, amongst many well-off Bangladeshis migration is seen as a strategy of the ‘poor’ and thus something unthinkable for themselves. Even though well-off Bangladeshis have themselves always travelled abroad, and they work and shop abroad, they nevertheless refuse to tar themselves with the same brush.
This perception collides with reality because, in fact, and due to the amounts needed to migrate, only relatively prosperous households can afford such an enterprise. As Roger Ballard and Alejandro Portes argued, long distance migrants are never drawn from the poorest families.Footnote 57 Reaching Europe from Bangladesh does indeed require substantial investment, since it can cost between 5 and 6 lac taka– (5,000–6,000 Euros).Footnote 58 Buying a Schengen visa or supporting the expenses of legalization in a country like Portugal, Spain or Italy is a considerable financial burden and thus only those economically capitalized (or networked) are able to raise such amounts. The most disadvantaged are absolutely incapable of supporting such expenses. Therefore, whenever someone called my attention to the fact that only poor people migrate, I could not help thinking of how they were really producing distinction, and thus (re)producing a power discourse.
Simultaneously, migrating to Europe is directly linked to families of intermediate status that are not totally satisfied with their lot but have enough resources to afford a plane ticket, a passport or a visa. In that sense, this discourse linking migration, modernity and life-course has been particularly class-oriented and is reproduced by the so-called ‘new middle classes’.
But this middle class discourse is, obviously, fraught with ambiguities and contestations because of its huge heterogeneity. The ‘new middle classes’ are diverse in their economic and educational capital and thus not all can access the same migration destinations. An overview of the literature about international migration from Bangladesh presents a picture marked by four types of migration, carried out by different socio-economic segments:
(i) first, the Sylheti long term migration to Britain, America, Canada or Australia, commonly performed by rural populations, with high economic capital but with lower levels of educational capital;Footnote 59
(ii) second, short term, labour migration from several regions of Bangladesh to the Middle East and Southeast Asian countries, mainly from the lower middle classes, both rural and urban;
(iii) third, cross border, land routes, between Bangladesh and India, usually used by economically deprived rural populations that either ‘try their luck’ in the main Indian cities, such as Kolkata, or work in several industries or mining companies in the Indian territory. This is a migration route marked by illegality and has stirred up several important political clashes between the Bangladesh and Indian authorities;Footnote 60
(iv) labour migration to Southern Europe performed by the intermediate strata, urbanized and with high levels of educational capital.Footnote 61
The most expensive and most desired migration destinations are Britain, America and Canada, followed by continental Europe, and finally countries such as Saudi Arabia, Malaysia or Korea, and this has evident consequences regarding who can go where. So, for instance, migrants to continental Europe tend to be more middle and upper middle class, whilst in Saudi Arabia, where access is less expensive, we find the lower middle class, with less economic and educational background. These hierarchies are themselves translated into power discourses again used to produce distinction. For instance, for some of my interlocutors, going to Saudi Arabia is seen as a strategy pursued only by the less economically capitalized. So migrants who are now in continental Europe belong, so they say, to a totally different status group, even if, for instance, they have sometimes actually been in Riyadh.
So, although migration can be seen as a class discourse, it is far from being a homogeneous one. On the contrary, it seems to translate all these differentiation and distinction dynamics amongst what has been called the ‘new and affluent Bangladeshi middle classes’.
Conclusions
The central argument of this paper is to reinforce that, for young Bangladeshis going abroad (bidesh) is itself constitutive of their status of middle class. Migration, as a resource and a discoursive formation, is one of the ways in which members of the middle class try to present themselves as ‘modern’, Bengali, male and adult.
In the larger context of the liberalization policies carried out in Bangladesh over past three decades, migration is perceived by young middle class Bangladeshi adults as a strategy to overcome their structural paradox in the labour market. Simultaneously, going abroad is intimately related to life-course events and the dreams and expectations of being ‘modern’ (adhunik) in contemporary Bangladesh.Footnote 62 My interlocutors’ statements clearly reveal the inter-relationship between these social dimensions and physical mobility. These ideas and perceptions are not only related to a long lasting culture of migration but also to the efforts on the part of the Bangladeshi state and its media. In such a context, it is no wonder that for some segments of contemporary Bangladeshi society to be modern is not equivalent to being a migrant, but being a migrant surely means that one is ‘adhunik’.
Having said that, it is absolutely essential to understand that this is a socially located, very heterogeneous, discourse—after all it has to be acknowledged that the dreams of migration are not equally accessible to everybody. Furthermore, this is not only a discourse of class but also of gender, reproduced by men, to whom migration is an essential resource for the production of masculinity. Only by revealing such complexities can we begin to understand the relationship between the expectations of the young, male Bangladeshi middle classes and international migration.
